


come home in a melody of tears

by sarcastissa, SnorkleShit



Series: coffee mouths [13]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - College/University, Church is a good bro, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by Roleplay/Roleplay Adaptation, Lavernius Tucker needs a hug, M/M, Original Character Death(s), Roleplay, Self-Hatred, Wash is a good boyfriend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 12:14:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3728566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcastissa/pseuds/sarcastissa, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnorkleShit/pseuds/SnorkleShit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the only parent that tucker has ever had is dead and tucker is missing</p><p>------------------------</p><p>roleplay adaption from tumblr between myself and destielswingsmyheartacrosstheline</p>
            </blockquote>





	come home in a melody of tears

**Author's Note:**

> "Heaven's not a place that you go when you die  
> It's that moment in life when you actually feel alive  
> So live for the moment  
> And take this advice, live by every word  
> Love is just a hoax so forget anything that you have heard  
> And live for the moment now"  
> -The Spill Canvas "The Tide"

Wash is on his knees, aligning the shot of the trees framing an old rusty truck on a backstreet when his phone startles him. He stands up straight, fishing it out and flipping it open:

“Church? What’s up-”

“IS TUCKER WITH YOU?” Church practically shouted into the phone. Washington flinched, and then frowned.

“What? No, and he hasn’t answered my texts. I figured he was busy. Is something wrong?” He asked, worry seizing him.

“Oh, fuck, I have no idea where he would go why don’t I know where he would go-” Church rambled, seized by panic.

“Go? Why did he leave?” Wash demanded.

Church took a deep breath. 

“His aunt called this morning. Mike- he’s gone. Passed away last night. Tucker just fell apart and then he just rushed out the door. I was hoping he was with you. Shit, this is bad…”

Washington stands there, reeling back at the news. Then he snaps himself back into focus. 

Where would Tucker go to get away from everything when something this horrible had happened?

“I’m gonna go check somewhere. Call me if you find out anything else.” He said, then snapped the phone shut.

He was glad he’s decided to go on a photo walk, he was already halfway there. He zipped his camera back into the bag Tucker had gotten him for Christmas and set off running towards the direction of the steadily declining sun.

The house looked abandoned, broken, haggard and worn away at by the weather, but it’s alive with the way the light hits the broken windows and the ivy wreathing all in and out of it. Washington stepped through the crooked door frame and is hit with the smell of dust after rain. It’s even more beautiful than the day Tucker first showed it to him. He walks slowly, floorboards creaking a sad, forlorn melody under his feet. He traces his finger along a particularly long strand of ivy.

He comes to stand in the frame of the doorway into what he assumes was some sort of drawing room. He leans gently against the doorframe, not sure what to the figure with its back to the wall and its knees drawn up to its chest.

Tucker leaned his head back against the wall, tears long gone. He had been there for thirty minutes whenever he heard the door open and footsteps that were too familiar make their way into the room. He turned to look at Wash from the corner of his eye and frowned. He didn’t want to talk to anybody.

He just wanted to be alone.

Tucker is obviously not in the mood for company. Washington gets that way more than he wants to. He has to play this right. He pulls out his camera and walks around the outer edge of the room leisurely, casually, snapping all sorts of pictures.

“I think my favorite thing is all the cracks in the walls, through the boarded up windows and such, especially when the sun is setting like this and the light flows through at just the perfect angle. Reminds me of something my grandmother told me when she found out what happened and rode her horse the whole way to the hospital.” He chuckled at the memory and descended to one knee to catch an abstract angle up the side of a splintering board.

Tucker glanced up at Wash, warily tracking the man’s movements with his eyes, but not offering any words. He did, however, put down the half drunk bottle of whiskey that was dangling between his fingers.

Fuck sobriety. His life was shit.

Wash leaned down and tilted the camera up, following the line of a strand of ivy.

“I told her that I didn’t know how I was ever going to go back to normal on the inside. And she told me that normal isn’t something you are. I didn’t understand back then, and, like I told you, I just tried to live with this constant feeling I was dirty and broken. And I didn’t get what she was talking about till I saw this house. I have a lot of things I’m thankful for from you, but that’s preeeeetttyyy high on the list.” He sighed as he stood, and stretched his neck a little.

Tucker huffed and stared back at the bottle, wondering if another drunk was in order to have this conversation.

Washington glanced back towards Tucker, then looked away again. He fiddled with the F stop on his camera, before coming to a decision and sitting crosslegged on the floor. He’s sit here and endure the awkward silence for days if he had to, just to be there the minute Tucker did need him.

“I came here to be alone,” Tucker told him, a slight slur in his words. Truth be told, he came here because the only person on the entire fucking planet that could find him here was Wash. He came here because he, honestly, just wanted to curl up in Wash’s arms and never leave.   
But he couldn’t. Because he wasn’t worthy of being with Wash.

Wash didn’t look up, and ran his hands over the bag Tucker had gotten him for Christmas.

“We are alone.”

Tucker let out a watery chuckle and stared up at the ceiling. There was a pause as Tucker’s half drunk mind raced. “So what did she mean? About normal?”

Wash half smiled. “I thought that I was ruined, that I’d never be able to be who I was before. In my mind, normal was back when I was happy and carefree and I wasn’t so fucked up in the head. I didn’t see how I could ever get completely better. She tried to explain to me that I was never gonna be who I was before. That person…” 

Wash paused, face falling as he stared down at his own hands. 

“Life changes things. Joy, trauma, injury, fate, love, childbirth, winning the lottery…people are constantly affected by what is done to them and what they do to others, I guess. There’s a core of you that stays the same most of the time, but everything around it slowly grows and shrinks and breaks and gets replaced. Kinda like this old house. It’s foundation, the core structure is sound. The windows are broken, there’s graffiti everywhere, furniture comes and goes, doors fall off, walls rot and get boarded up, ivy finds its way into every nook and cranny. Some people think it’s ugly and useless just because it’s not what it used to be. But those people aren’t you and me, that’s for sure. It’s not a house anymore. Houses are for living in. It’s changed into…” 

Wash paused, looking around. “This is gonna sound pretentious, but I’m gonna go ahead and say it’s a monument to endurance and what not. It’s still good. Just different, I guess. What I’m trying to get at with this long spiel is that it’s okay for a few windows break. You can get new windows, if you want. You could board up the windows and let the cracks leak in light. You could just leave them as they are. But that doesn’t make the structure any less sound, and lots of people still think it’s beautiful no matter what you do. I’m gonna shut up now, but I hope you get what I mean.”

Tucker felt the tears running down his cheeks in small streams. He looked over at Wash with a desperate look on his face. “What happens whenever the foundation breaks?”

Wash nodded. 

“Get something else to hold it up, I guess.”

Tucker curled up again, knees to chest and arms crossed over them. He buried his face in his arms and cried. He didn’t want a new Mike. He needed Mike back. He was a mess, drowning in sorrow and shame and a disproportionate amount of man angst. Mike was what kept him afloat.

But now, Mike was gone. Mike was dead.

Tucker let out a quiet sob.

Wash reached out a hand to test the waters, resting it gently on Tucker’s shoulder.

Tucker brushed his cheek against the hand and turned to look at Wash. There was an apology on the tip of his tongue, but for once in his life he wasn’t sorry. He was scared.

Wash smiled, a pained, loving smile trying to reassure Tucker that he was here, and he was here for him.

Tucker uncrossed his arms and wrapped them around Wash’s neck, bringing the blond closer and burying his face in the crook of Wash’s neck.

Washington felt the nervousness leave him and he hugged Tucker, trying to pour all his love into the space between their bodies. God, he wished it would just move past his lips.

Tucker let out another sob before biting the inside of his lip hard enough that he began to taste blood. He shook violently against Wash, a mixture of the grief, the whiskey, and the simple t-shirt that he had run out in that wasn’t actually a stellar example of planning ahead considering how easily Tucker got cold.

Wash rubbed his hands comfortingly up and down Tucker’s back.

“I’m scared.” Tucker admitted, his lips moving against Wash’s neck.

“Of what?” Washington dared to ask softly, heart twisting itself in knots of worry.

“A world that he’s not in,” Tucker started. “Being so in love with you, Felix, a custody battle for Junior.”

Wash blinked. “A custody battle? You're really heading into it?” He asked in surprise.

Tucker pulled back from Wash, face knit together with exasperation, and little bit of hurt. “Of course I am. That woman should be in an instant-instti–institution. And Junior needs a foundation. And I need him.”

“No, I know, I agree, but don’t you need a stable living situation, and stuff like that? I mean, babe, you’re in a dorm, aren’t you?” Wash asked, slightly confused.

Tucker huffed and shrugged. “Mike was rich and left most of his money to me and Junior. I’ll buy a house or something. I don’t fucking know. Now I’m just more scared, thanks.”

Wash flinched. He should have guessed that. Man, he was really striking out of the comforting boyfriend check sheet.

“No, no, it’ll be okay. You’ll be sure to win, and the reality market is great right now, and I’ll do whatever I can to help along the way, I promise.”

“I don’t wanna be a grown up,” Tucker whimpered and rested his forehead on Wash’s shoulder. “People start dying and taxes happen and do you fucking know how much alcohol costs? Like, Jesus, what the fuck? I’m paying to kill myself. Now I just have more reasons not to drink. My stomach feels like its on fire.”

Wash glanced towards the bottle. He hated alcohol. He knew Tucker did to. It had been alcohol that turned his father into what he became, wasn’t it? Didn’t alcoholism run in genetics?

Wash reached up to run his hands over Tucker’s dreads. Tucker was stronger than that. He just needed help when he couldn’t be strong.

“It’s gonna be okay. There’s gonna be good times too. Watching Junior grow up safe and happy. Getting to wake up knowing you don’t have to do the horrible dorm dishes. What a wonderful weight that will be lifted from your shoulders.”

Tucker frowned, eyes going wide. “Jesus Christ, that dorm will be overrun with dishes and nobody will eat. Those idiots are gonna kill themselves.”

Wash laughed. “I’m sure Donut won’t let that happen. He likes getting ‘warm and soapy’ so much he’ll start doing their dishes too.”

Tucker nodded. “But what about everything else?”

Wash reached out to cup Tucker’s face.

“It’s gonna be alright. We care about each other and I promise I would never do anything to intentionally hurt you. All I want is to be with you and for us to be happy. I will always be there for you as long as you want me. And Felix…he took me by surprise. I’m much more aware of how serious of an asshole he is. I bought mace and everything. I know you’ve been worried about me, and yeah, I’m a little jumpy still, but I’m really okay. And everyone else is on guard after what happened. He’s not gonna get to either of us so easily. And all he really wanted to do was drive us apart and fuck with us, but it only made us stronger. you are going to get through Mike’s death. You haven’t lost him. He’ll always be with you. I can see him in you, right now. You're going to get custody of Junior, I swear on my soul. No court is gonna take one look at that woman compared to you, once you’ve bought a nice house and you're financially stable. Which seems to be in the cards right now. And it’s gonna be stressful but I’m gonna be right there with you, and so are the others, okay? We all care about you and about Junior. Things are starting to look up, if you think about the brightside. But there still pretty painful right now, and that’s okay. It’s okay to be sad.”

Tucker nodded “You won’t leave?” He asked, voice small and quiet.

Washington’s heart shatters right there. Right fucking there.

“No. Never.”

Tucker nodded and felt his eyelids grow heavy. “Good. I’m gonna sleep now.”

“Want to use my lap?” Wash offered, taking this opportunity to draws the bottle out of Tucker’s hand and set it aside.

Tucker nodded and re-positioned himself to lay his head in Wash’s lap. He blinks sluggishly, but a question was still gnawing at his brain. “Why did you come for me?”

“Because I was worried about you. I knew you needed me. I’ll always be there when you need me. Just like you are for me.”

“But I suck at being your boyfriend,” Tucker pointed out. “I walked out on you while we were fighting, it’s my fucking fault that Felix is targeting you, I literally fall apart every other fucking day. Its not even like you need me or anything. Your life would literally be so much easier without me.”

Wash pursed his lips. 

“None of that is your fault. If it weren’t for you…” Wash reached down to strike Tucker’s dreads. “I’d still feel like if never be anything but dirty and broken. Part of me would still want to die.” He admitted softly, voice like a feather falling, drifting, but words heavy like an anvil. He smiled gently.

“You're stronger than you give yourself credit for, and you make me feel strong too. Now sleep of all that booze, I’ll watch over you while you sleep, Kay, babe?”

Tucker hummed in acknowledgement and patted Wash’s thigh. He didn’t know why. It seemed like a good idea to his half asleep and drunk mind. He fell asleep almost instantly, snoring softly.

Wash kept gently petting Tucker’s head, watching as he drifted off with a soft, sincere smile. Tucker deserves some rest. He’d had to carry far too much weight in his life.

He smiled wider as the sun’s lines leaking through the window got longer. Tucker looked cute when he slept. Cute, and at peace.

If only that would carry on into the world of the living.

**Author's Note:**

> playlists:  
> plot: http://8tracks.com/snorkletuckington/twenty-questions  
> wash: http://8tracks.com/snorkletuckington/cracks-in-the-mirror  
> tucker: http://8tracks.com/snorkletuckington/the-strongest-hearts-are-the-heaviest  
> felix: http://8tracks.com/snorkletuckington/please-don-t-stay-in-touch  
> maine:  
> http://8tracks.com/snorkletuckington/f-u-r-y  
> sad:  
> http://8tracks.com/snorkletuckington/i-found-you-lost-with-a-compass-in-the-fog  
> locus:  
> http://8tracks.com/snorkletuckington/enjoy-the-abuse
> 
> wash: destielswingsmyheartacrosstheline  
> tucker: sarcastissa


End file.
